Member-only story
I confess: I don’t particularly like rap. Maybe it’s an acquired taste, like mushrooms or artichokes. Maybe if I live long enough, it’ll grow on me.
But I doubt it. I’m too old, and likely too square. Led too sheltered a life, now largely behind me. I’m in the winter of my years and the tattered shawl I pull around me for warmth wasn’t even necessary when it was summer.
I look back and think, with the year almost over, it might be best presented as rap. I think about the success of “HAMILTON” and mull, “Yeah, maybe.”
So, with gratitude to those who went before, and not a little humility (that always seems in order, particularly for someone who has admittedly never written rap before), I present something I put down in honor of a memorable year.
Not being a musician, I didn’t write any music to go with this. Aspiring rappers are free to add whatever music they wish. Or not.
(Suggested enhancements in parentheses).
Here goes:
I gotta tell ya.
I gotta tell ya.
I simply gotta tell ya
About a year like no otha.
It’s really no botha.
So, homey, stick to my side.
